The Other Side
by ItookAlistairsCherry
Summary: In the Wasteland, friends can turn into enemies, enemies can become allies, and everyone is watching for themselves. Amata learns these lessons from an unexpected source.
1. Chapter 1

The Other Side

Chapter I

Disclaimer: Fallout 3 belongs to Bethesda.

101010101

The night air was cold.

Amata shivered as another breeze swept across her hunched frame. No matter how tightly she curled up she just couldn't stop shaking. Her stomach continued to complain for food and her throat begged for clean water. Worse, she still had yet to get used to the awful noises of the wasteland: gunfire, howls, and death.

The sounds of war engulfed around her and clung tightly like wet clothes to skin. Amata shut her eyes and tried to sleep, tried to block out all of the noise, but her body refused to obey. She'd never missed the vault so much.

In the vault there was never the fear of hunger or thirst. Only time she's ever recalled feeling hungry was when Mr. Brotch would run class a little late before lunch. Thirst was also a stranger to her. She couldn't think of a single time she felt her life was in danger.

At least until that radroach breakout incident occurred.

The vault was peaceful, there was hardly ever noise. There was always order, unless Butch and his stupid friends were around. Or if Christine Kendall was up to her flirting, she had the most annoying laugh.

There was a time Amata felt that she would go crazy with the silence of the vault. The place was massive, but with their numbers dwindling there was always so much space. With space came the silence. How Amata missed that silence.

She never knew she was so sensitive to every sound around her. Her ears picked up everything from the wind sweeping trash along broken concrete to the heavy footsteps of her captors. Then again, as massive as those orange men are, or super mutants as she's learned they're called, she could also hear their loud and heavy breathing.

Nonetheless, walking with no breaks for an entire day finally caught up to her. As uncomfortable as Amata was she accepted the sleep that eventually crept on her.

What felt like a moment later, a distant sound of an explosion woke her, she could even feel the ground vibrate. The sudden noise scared her into a sitting position.

"No move!"

A yelp escaped her dry throat before she could help it. Turning, her eyes bulged as she watched a super mutant approach her. Its permanent snarl and its penetrating eyes were intimidating enough, but at night its features sent shivers down her back. Another noise boiled in her throat.

She shut her eyes as the hulking figure approached even closer. She knew it was going to kill her. She'd seen the piles of human flesh and bones that the super mutants were fond of making; she had heard an unfortunate man get ripped to shreds by a mutant and turned into one.

Remembering those screams churned her stomach and she felt a sharp need to void.

What if the super mutant was going to turn her into a flesh bag too? It warned her not to move or make a sound, and now she made it angry by awakening it from its slumber.

With her eyes still closed, Amata felt the super mutant beside her. Unable to stop herself from whimpering, she mentally begged anyone or anything to save her.

"Stupid human! You sleep now!"

Its hot and foul smelling breath penetrated her sinuses, which brought her dangerously close to becoming violently ill. Not that she had anything in her stomach to expel. She forced the nausea to stay at bay anyway, if she became sick on the monsters feet no doubt it would kill her.

The ground under her trembled as the mutant walked away. When Amata opened her eyes she found the mutant returned to its post. The other person that was captured, a man in dark clothing, was awake and was watching her.

He wore dark armor that reminded her of the vault security uniform. Her eyes settled on the emblem on the man's armor. It was white and star shaped. The man himself had long hair, a beard, and dark skin. He also appeared to have dirt on every inch of him.

Sensing her stare, the man just glared at her. Amata noticed his eyes studying her jumpsuit. His stare began to make her feel uncomfortable. Yet she wished she could speak to him, or wished he would give her reassuring words. Like he had help on the way or an escape plan. Instead, his eyes eventually drifted to stare out into the destroyed buildings. He never attempted to communicate with her and he always kept his distance. Soon, he settled against what was left of a rusted car frame and shut his eyes.

At least he doesn't look cold, Amata thought. Her eyes remained on him. His armor made him look like a soldier. She wondered if he was one. Still, she was glad he didn't look like those raiders. It would've been terrifying to have a murderer remain a few paces behind her.

Thinking about those crazed savages brought goose bumps on her arms and a shiver down her spine. Then her heart felt heavy as she remembered that kind man that was brutally murdered by the raiders.

It was strange to feel sad about a man she didn't know. He was a stranger. Yet, he was the only one willing to help her. Sure, his price for his help was hefty, he asked to become a permanent Vault 101 resident, but considering how desperate Amata was she couldn't refuse. Not when everyone else wouldn't lift a finger to help unless she had a lot of money.

The vault overseer shivered again, but it was more from the chill in the air. Her thin jumpsuit did little to keep her warm. She didn't know how she was able to drift to sleep a few moments ago, but her confrontation with the massive orange monster left her wide awake. It was frustrating to feel so exhausted but incapable of falling asleep.

The pain in her feet and legs brought tears to her eyes. Her failure as an overseer and her mission to help John brought more tears. Officer Gomez died helping her escape the vault. Her first day out in the wasteland and she's already captured.

She choked on her sob, but thankfully none of the orange giants seemed to have heard her.

Was it like this for John? Was he ever kidnapped? Amata cursed at herself. Of course John had to go through this. He's been in the wasteland longer than she. Judging by his appearance and his attitude when he returned to the vault no doubt he'd gone through worse. Guilt hit her hard. How could she have thrown him back out into this hell?

A roar from one of the monsters jarred her from her thoughts. All of the orange men were running around her and shouting, but she couldn't understand what they were saying.

Then she saw it.

Not too far from her was one of the monsters lying on the floor, a massive pool of blood surrounding its head.

Seeing a dead body brought Amata to a panic. They were under attack and there was nowhere for her to hide. A loud _bang_ echoed nearby, the sudden noise made her feel like she was deafened for a moment.

The orange men made a run for the source of the loud noise, leaving Amata and the armored man alone. She noticed the man was already at the dead body. Fighting against her body's protest, she jumped to her feet and limped as fast as she could away from everything. She had no idea where she was going, but the farther away she was from the orange men the better.

Adrenaline was quick to fuel Amata and the endorphins squashed her pain. She had no idea how long she had been running, but she knew none of those orange men chased her.

It was so dark. Amata wanted to run forever so nothing could get her. She wanted to run back to the vault even more, but the more she ran the more she couldn't recognize the terrain. Even the ground beneath her was no longer broken concrete; instead she had been running on dirt and rocks.

It was obvious she was lost, but she couldn't go back. The super mutants would be looking for her.

Her side was beginning to hurt, and she was having difficulty breathing, but she didn't want to stop running. If she stopped then what if something attacked her? Her hands were still bound and she had no weapon.

Half her foot stepped on a large rock which resulted in her ankle painfully bending in a way it shouldn't. She yelped, couldn't maintain her balance, and fell face first onto the ground. Dirt invaded her throat as she sharply inhaled, choking her.

Amata laid there for a long time. The pain in her ankle seemed to have awakened the rest of the pain in her lower body. Her lungs violently expelled the invading dirt, but it hurt so much to cough and breathe with her throat absolutely dry. Dirt and her hair clung to her sweaty face. The fear was still raging inside of her, she wanted to stand up and continue running. But her body wouldn't move.

The dirt was soft and cool on her face. Little by little, her breathing returned to normal and the chilly air cooled her sweating body. Fatigue continued to beat its presence into her until she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

She had a dream about herself running away from water. She couldn't swim, so when the wave finally hit her she was helpless. As she struggled to stay at the top, she noticed a distorted face looking down at her from above the water's surface. Her arms reached out and the little air she had in her lungs had been expelled as she screamed for help, but the face never moved. Her hands brushed against the person looking down on her, but her grip was too weak as the water violently pulled her away.

Amata woke coughing and gasping for breath. Her lungs were still burning as if she had been drowning. Her eyelids opened a crack. A bright light burned into her exposed eyes and her back.

Her father had to have turned on the lights to get her to wake up.

Groaning, Amata decided she would call in sick. She was too exhausted to even get out of bed.

Something tugged at her leg.

"Damnit, John, I'm tired," Amata muttered. She was so tired and thirsty it was difficult to talk.

Another tug at her leg drove the young woman to kick at John. Normally, she got out of bed in good spirits when John pestered her out of bed. But today she was so tired it hurt to move her whole body.

A sudden, sharp pain pierced her calf. Crying out, Amata was instantly awake. She wasn't on her bed, or the vault for that matter. Instead, she was on top of dirt.

For a moment, Amata's body ignored her sore muscles protests and sat up to see what had bitten her leg. The only thing she saw was a small, black nose and two beady eyes.

Screaming, the former overseer kicked the animal away savagely. She forced herself to stand, despite the pain her body weight on her ankle caused, and practically limped away.

The animal quickly pursued her; strange noises escaped it as it gave chase. Sometimes, if it was close enough, it would jump and try to bite at Amata's waist. Her brown eyes quickly noticed a pile of large boulders nearby. If she climbed on it, maybe the animal wouldn't be able to jump up.

Her legs were stiff and each step felt like she didn't have any skin on the bottom of her feet. Her mouth was so dry she struggled not to choke on her own tongue. However, pure terror nurtured the necessary energy for her body to run. Still, the small animal, despite having such short legs, was able to keep up with the woman and it continued to jump and bite at her.

A loud shriek echoed escaped her as she tried to climb to safety. Her hands were still bound together and the adrenaline was beginning to wear down. The rocks were rough and broke the flesh of her fingers, but Amata gritted her teeth and still forced her exhausted body upward, all the while the critter continued to jump and gnaw at her legs.

Once safely on top of the rocks, Amata's body begged for more rest. The sun had just barely began to peak out, yet the air felt so unbelievably hot. She peered over the edge and sighed in relief when she saw the animal couldn't jump or climb high enough to reach her.

Homesick, exhausted, thirsty, and hurting, Amata could do nothing but slump to the ground. The burning pain in her entire body throbbed she felt light headed. Her tongue felt like leather.

As the sun rose higher, its rays felt hotter. The vault overseer's clouded mind reached for the survival books that the vault 101 citizens learned in school. She already sought higher ground, and so far it kept her out of harm's way. But she would have to find water. One more day without water and she'll be dead.

_And I will have officially failed._

She could use one of the nearby rocks to throw down at the creature that still tried to reach her. The thought of cutting it open for its meat revolted her, but two days without food made her willing to endure it. She would need wood, but with so many trees (they were trees, right?) nearby it wouldn't be a problem to get enough for a fire. Luckily, she still had her lighter in her pocket. She was grateful she had planned ahead and brought it with her when she grabbed what she could before she snuck out of the vault.

But the most important thing right now was getting the bondage around her wrists off. The wire had embedded itself into her skin and it was wound too tight for her to pull her wrists apart. She used her teeth, but quickly regretted it when she tasted her warm blood.

Until she was free from her binding, she didn't dare explore for water, unless it was nearby. Her muscles protested against her movement, but she forced herself to stand. There was no water to be found anywhere.

_Well do you expect to see a giant sign that says, water?_

Amata shook her head. All she could see in the distance were trees, rocks, hills, destroyed buildings and bridges.

The vault citizen fought against the viscous feeling of uselessness and strained her memories for more survival information, but remembered nothing.

Maybe she could pick a direction and keep walking until she found water? There _had_ to be a river or stream somewhere. If she ran into trouble she could just run.

Pain coursed through her when she tried to change into a more comfortable position. Her body reminded her that she was in no condition to travel. She was stuck here.

Hours passed. The exhaustion would catch up with her and she'd fall asleep, but the worthlessness and vulnerability of her position continued to wake her up. She didn't know if the critter was still at the bottom of her rocky mound, but she lacked the strength to check.

Eventually, she hadn't realized she nodded off until a loud _bang_ woke her.

Her head felt heavier than her body. She felt surprised at herself for feeling indifferent about the possibility that someone was nearby. Or something. She simply couldn't move even if she tried to.

"Looks like I was right," a deep voice announced.

There was someone behind her! Her legs refused to move, despite the fear that was fueling her muscles, so all she could muster was rolling on her opposite side.

Two men stood several feet away from her. She instantly recognized the shorter male; he was the other prisoner that the super mutants captured. The taller looked like he would have been handsome if it weren't for all the dirt, beard, and dark long hair that covered his face. Amata felt drawn to the pale blue eyes he sported and couldn't help but feel…something. She couldn't even explain the mixture of emotions she felt as she stared into his gaze.

Strangely enough, however, she didn't feel threatened by their presence. They weren't like those inhuman people that wore spikes on their clothes and sported strange hair styles. What were they called again? Her thoughts were too heavy to remember.

The shorter man, Amata never got his name, turned to face his companion with a wide grin on his face.

"I helped you find her. She's unharmed. Are we good," he asked.

The taller one nodded. "You're free to go." His voice was deep, but scratchy.

He should probably go easy on the whisky and cigarettes, Amata mused.

Even though he was dismissed, the man in the dark armor didn't budge. The taller guy didn't seem to care; he moved passed him and approached Amata. She felt like she should get up, but she continued to lie on her safe spot. She wanted to ask him for water, but she failed to even do that.

"Hey man, could I get a weapon?"

The man with the lue eyes paused in his stride. He spoke without looking at his companion; his eyes were focused instead on Amata. She began to feel uneasy with his stare. "How much are you willing to pay for one?"

The shorter one looked insulted. "Pay you? I helped you find Ms. Vault Citizen!"

"You aiding me find her is payment for helping you escape from the super mutants."

"C'mon man. The walk back is a long one. There ain't no way I can make it there without a weapon."

His improper grammar made Amata wince. She half expected Mr. Brotch to appear and give a lesson on double negatives.

Blue eyes finally made eye contact with the man. "Then how much are you willing to pay for a weapon?"

Sighing, the guy's shoulders slumped. "Fine. Give me a weapon and I'll owe you one. Big time."

"No."

The shorter man looked insulted. "Do you have any idea how much a favor from a Talon Company merc is worth?"

Talon Company. Ah, so it was a talon on the man's armor. The overseer thought it was a skinny star.

"Favors don't buy medicine, food, shelter, or ammo. I don't do charity." Amata sensed anger in Blue Eyes' voice.

The shorter one started rummaging through his pockets. He didn't have much, but he handed his items to Blue Eyes. "So much for the Lone Wanderer helping people."

"People change."

"This good? It's my pay from the assignment I just finished. Two hundred caps. And a pack of cigarettes and my rations."

Blue Eyes nodded once before he accepted the items. He handed the other man a weapon he had strapped to his belt. The Talon merc smiled as he analyzed his new toy.

"Wait, what about ammo? A few clips should get me back safely."

Blue Eyes ignored him and headed for Amata again. By then she was able to force herself into a sitting position. She noticed a small knife in his hand that sent her into a panic, but she was too slow to get away. He grabbed her arms, his face blank of any emotion, and quickly cut at the wire. The wire moving inside her skin made her cry out. Embarrassed, she held in another yelp as he roughly pulled the material off and tossed it.

The Talon merc dug through his pockets again. "Okay, here are all my supplies. I got two vials of psycho, one med-x, and three stimpacks."

Blue Eyes pulled some ammo magazines from a duffel bag Amata barely noticed he had slung on his back. "Deal."

Anger was plainly sprawled over the merc's face. Amata couldn't blame him. He seemed to have given everything he had for a weapon and ammo. If he got hurt or hungry he would be out of luck. "Don't think this means my boys won't shoot at you if you get near our territory."

With their business concluded, Blue Eyes watched the Talon merc walk away. Even when the merc disappeared beyond the distance he still watched. Amata wanted to ask why he still stood watch, but the dryness in her mouth kept her from saying anything. She stared at his bag and fantasized about how many bottles of water were in there.

She jumped when he felt his hands on her wrists. She recognized the medicinal syringes in his grip. He injected the med-x first.

The effect was immediate. This was her first time being under the influence of this drug. The vault was strict when it came to medicine. Unlike their food and water, they had no way of replenishing their medicine supply.

He then injected a stimpack on both her arms, near her injured wrists. She tried to thank him, but with the med-x and her dry-as-leather tongue all she managed was something incoherent.

She nearly cried in joy when Blue Eyes held a water bottle out to her. He cruelly pulled the bottle away from her reach when she tried to grab it, which actually brought her to tears.

"Drink it in small gulps."

Amata frowned. She was so thirsty. Why would she torture herself to take small amounts? She hadn't had water in over a day.

His pale eyes watched her, as if waiting for a response. She simply nodded. She would kiss his feet if she had to.

"If you drink too much too fast you'll get sick. And that's a waste of water."

She nodded again. He watched her for another moment before finally handing her the bottle. The rush of water in her mouth brought life to her taste buds. The water tasted of dirt and blood. Blue Eyes pulled the precious plastic away from her chapped lips.

"I _told_ you to take small sips."

Amata wished she could punch him. She knew he enjoyed torturing her.

He didn't trust her, so he tilted the bottle into her mouth. It felt like he only gave her a few drops. Once, she tried hitting the bottom of bottle so it would tilt more. He expected her to do that so he pulled away before she made contact. Or maybe she was too slow. Her arms felt like rubber.

What felt like an hour later, the bottle was empty. She hoped he would give her food too, but she noticed how much he kept looking around them.

"Can you walk?"

The woman didn't trust her voice nearly as much as her legs so she simply shook her head.

"We need to move, now. And I can't carry you."

Something in Amata's gut told her she shouldn't follow him. But she wasn't in any condition to refuse. The man was nice enough, well maybe not _nice_ but he didn't threaten to harm her.

Her muscles protested as she moved. Thanks to the med-x her legs and feet only felt stiff as she moved them. The man grabbed her roughly by her upper arm and led her toward a distant broken bridge.

The sky steadily grew darker. Amata had to pause, sweat rolled down her back and face, while Blue Eyes shook off the tanned coat he sported. Underneath the coat he wore a black long sleeved shirt and pants. Actually, it looked a lot like a vault suit, only there were no designs on the material, it looked to be padded, and it was very form fitting. The darkness of the material blended in with the surrounding night perfectly. The only way she could see him was by his face.

He stuffed his jacket into his bag, unslung a large gun he carried on his back, tinkered with it, and finally stood. Reaching behind his neck, he pulled a mask over his face. Now Amata truly wouldn't have been able to see him if he weren't so close.

"Keep close," he muttered.

They walked in silence for a long time. Many times Amata thought she would fall over from exhaustion. With each step she took the more difficult it was to keep her eyes open. She was still thirsty, but the bottle she drank earlier helped immensely. But her stomach was growling so loud she was afraid she would attract the super mutants.

The vault overseer wanted to ask the man so many questions. Who was he? Why did he help her? Where was he taking her? Every time she tried to speak he immediately called for her silence. She should throw herself on the floor and refuse to move until he gave her the answers she wanted, but with the air getting cold and the sky so dark that she couldn't see two feet in front of her, she followed him quietly. She grew nervous every time he paused to look through the scope of his weapon.

Eventually, they arrived at the foot of a broken bridge. Amata lifted her face, her mouth slightly ajar, and stared at the massive structure. What the bridge connected to, she didn't know. Either side of it there was nothing by empty space.

When she stared at them long enough she had to bite her tongue to keep her from proudly exclaiming she knew what the broken structure was. It was part of a highway. It was a street that was built above the ground and was supported by pillars.

Her thoughts were interrupted when the man grabbed her and pulled her toward a chunk of a collapsed highway. They had to squeeze between massive rocks, wires as thick as her legs, and thick blocks of what she remembered were called concrete.

Their new shelter made their surroundings even darker. Losing sight of Blue Eyes, Amata blindly reached out for him. Her hands rubbed against something hard and smooth. Then she had to lift her hands to shield her eyes when a bright green light suddenly erupted and chased away the darkness.

The source of the light was an all too familiar piece of tech on the dark haired man's wrist. He had a pip-boy! Was he a vault citizen? Or did he steal it? Amata recalled that there were other vaults rather than 101. Maybe he came from one of those.

Her thoughts were interrupted when he spoke. "Watch your step."

She looked down and saw what he meant. There were a few metallic circles with a smaller flat plate in the center. Bear traps. She was worried to accidently step on one with how stiff and heavy her legs felt.

He continued to lead her through more rubble until they finally reached a dead end. The dead end, however, consisted of a nicely open spaced area. In the back of the space was a vehicle. It wasn't like the rusted cars Amata noticed around the wasteland. This one was large with numerous small empty spaces along the long sides. It looked more like a tube than a car. She's seen the vehicle before in the books at the vault, but it wasn't like the broken shell she was looking at now. She recognized it now, it was a bus!

The bus was broken in half, the front part was missing, and the seats had been pulled down and made into makeshift beds.

"We'll rest here," Blue Eyes muttered. Amata watched him make himself at confortable. He discarded his things on one of the seats, but kept his rifle strapped to his back, and then he crouched down, his back to her.

Seeing his guard fall, Amata didn't need to be told to relax. She immediately threw herself on a seat. It was small, and not as comfortable as it looked, but she was just glad to be laying on something that wasn't hard rock.

A moment later her eyes snapped open. Blue Eyes had nudged her awake.

"Eat this."

He handed her a strip of meat. It was hot, but not enough to burn her fingers. Even though she didn't know what it was, the smell of it made her mouth water. She was too hungry to care what creature she was eating. One bite of it sent her taste buds into a frenzy. It had been over two days since she ate, but the taste of the meat had so much flavor compared to the preserved food that was mostly served in the Vault. The closest thing to fresh food they ate was something from a can poured and heated up in a pan.

The meat was very chewy, but not tough. When she was done she nearly asked for another piece, but Blue Eyes handed her another bottle of water.

"Drink a few sips. Slowly. Let your stomach get used to the food in your stomach." Amata complied. She could already feel her stomach flip and twist, it was bad enough it was forced to go without anything to digest, but it was another thing for it to be introduced to new food. For a moment she felt like she was going to be sick, get a cramp, or both. A sip of water helped settled her stomach. After another sip a small burp escaped her throat.

"Eat this one a little more slowly."

The overseer's stomach didn't protest against the second strip of meat. She still felt hungry, but Blue Eyes refused to give her another piece until later. He also wouldn't let her lay down. Doing so would bring the food back up, according to him.

With something in her belly, thirst gone, and a little comfort, Amata was ready for sleep. Although a shower would have made her day.

Her eyes drifted to her savior. He sat facing the entrance to their hideout, eating several pieces of meat.

"Who are you?" Her voice sounded weak and raspy, she was shocked to think that that was coming from her.

The man paused in mid chew, glanced at her, then turned back to watching the entrance. He didn't answer, he continued to bite, chew, and occasionally take a sip from a bottle. Amata's shoulders dropped and was about to just lay down when she heard him answer, "no one important."

That wasn't an answer she expected. She should've dropped it, but there was so much she wanted to know about this man. "What's your name?"

"I'm just a wastelander."

She frowned. "What's a wastelander?"

If he was annoyed by her questions, he didn't show it. He simply leaned back, but still kept watch. "A person that has yet to be killed by the wasteland."

Thinking back, Amata remembered that Talon merc guy called him something. What was it?

"Why did that man call you the Lone Wanderer?" She remembered.

The man's shoulders tensed. "He had me mistaken for someone else."

Amata's next question was interrupted when a meat strip was shoved into her face. She took a bite, but asked her question anyway. She didn't care if he didn't want to talk, there were too many questions she needed to ask. "Why are you helping me?"

"Someone asked me to."

That someone had to be John, Amata thought. Just like how the med-x washed away all of her body's pain, his answer cleansed her of all worry and stress. She knew that man she met in Megaton stayed true to his promise and sent word out to John about her needing help from him again. The vault needed his help again.

Once this man took her to John she could rest easy. He would know how to save the vault. He always knew what to do.

She finished the rest of her strip without asking anything further. If he refused to give her his name then she didn't care anymore. She couldn't get rid of the smile on her face, until she thought of Officer Gomez.

Thinking about his death caused her smile to fade and her eyes to mist. At least his death wouldn't be in vain. He died helping her escape the vault. And she was going to see John soon. He would help her, help the vault. It's his home too.

She lied. Vault 101 was no longer John's home. She kicked him out.

But that doesn't mean he'll turn his back to her, she thought. For old time's sake, he'll help her out. Maybe this time everyone in the vault will welcome him back. They could be best friends again. Things will return to normal. Before John's father, James, escaped.

"Tomorrow we rest."

Amata pulled out of her thoughts.

"Well, _you'll_ rest. The next day we head out."

He gestured her to follow him. It was difficult to stand up when her body had finally found comfort. He led her to another section where the ground dropped down into a large hole. Stairs led deeper underground, and they were covered with more bear traps. Continuing downward, the stairs led to a wide room. Concrete, rocks, and other pre-war junk littered the place.

He showed her the bathroom. Amata's hopes rose when she thought of actual indoor plumbing, but her joy was quickly smashed when she saw that the "toilet" was actually a small hole in the floor.

Blue Eyes seemed to have noticed her annoyed expression.

"You can't expect the actual toilets to still work," he teased. There was a small smile in the corner of his lips. "Anyway, be careful not to fall. It leads to the sewers."

The next thing he showed her was back in the wide room. Behind a tall pile of rubble he showed her a pipe that poked out from the wall that had a weak trickle of water pouring out of it. The water pooled and flowed down a second set of stairs, but more rubble blocked further access.

"This is clean water," he shook his head, "well, clean as you're going to get. You can use this place to bathe." He began to walk back to the set of stairs that led up. "I'm going to sleep. _Don't_ wake me up."

Annoyed that he left her alone in the dark, but also grateful for privacy, Amata took a moment to activate the light from her own Pip-Boy. She had forgotten to ask Blue Eyes where he'd gotten his. Though she had a feeling he wouldn't tell her.

The thought of bathing was too good to pass up, despite how exhausted she felt and how paranoid she was about the wasteland water. The med-x continued to keep the pain away, but her legs still shook if she stood for too long.

Without soap, it took a long time to wash her clothes first. She let her clothes soak, rubbed them fiercely, and then wrung them. She repeated the process until she couldn't smell the sweat and dirt from them anymore.

With her jumpsuit and underclothes washed and hanging to dry, it didn't take Amata as long as she thought it would to get used to the cold water. She used to hate cold showers. But the heat of the wasteland turned her to be grateful for them. Even underground the air was warm and dry.

By the time she was done scrubbing the dirt, blood and grime from her caramel colored skin and dark hair, Amata let herself soak under the weak stream of water. It massaged her head and shoulders in a way. When it was becoming more difficult to keep her eyes open, she finally stepped away from the water.

She didn't have a towel to dry off, and she wasn't willing to use her own undershirt as a replacement. Surprisingly, perhaps due to the warm air, her clothes dried off fairly well. They were slightly damp, but she didn't mind putting them back on. Once she returned upstairs the warmer air would finish drying them.

With a full belly, and clean clothes and body, Amata was asleep before her head touched her bed.

Pain woke her the next morning. The med-x had long since faded from her system. Her eyelids felt as though they were glued together and she was tempted to sleep again if it had not been for her right side hurting and gone completely numb.

Gritting her teeth, the vault overseer moved to lie down on her back. She almost thought she was back in the vault, and in her room. Almost.

The dead giveaway that everything wasn't a dream, and she truly was out in the wasteland, was the small cracks of sunlight that leaked from the rubble ceiling and drilled their warmth onto Amata's skin. The vault didn't have sunlight. And no matter how much overtime she worked did she ever have her whole body hurt so much, especially in her legs and feet.

Sleep tempted her, but she forced herself to ignore it. Her stomach was grumbling, her throat was dry, and she reluctantly would have to use that disgusting toilet hole.

Sitting up was painful in her abdomen and shoulders. Climbing to her feet was worse. Her legs didn't feel as shaky and weak compared to the night before, but they were stiff and difficult to move. Her feet felt like she had walked on glass.

Blue Eyes wasn't in the camp and Amata feared the worse. Why would he abandon her? Was he returning with John?

Then she heard something behind her. Was he downstairs? He had to, she didn't know what'd she do if he truly left her behind.

Panic lifted her pulse to her neck and erased the pain in her feet. When she approached the pile of rubble that covered the leaking water pipe, Amata sighed in relief when she spotted Blue Eyes duffle bag. So he was simply bathing.

The thought of him standing nearby naked brought a flush to her face. She lowered her gaze and snuck to the bathroom. When she emerged a moment later she couldn't help but glance towards Blue Eyes. From her new angle she was able to see him behind the rubble. But he was actually fully clothed.

She looked back at him again; she immediately noticed his hair was cut short. He rinsed his head one final time before he turned and faced her.

Her heart felt to have stopped, a chill rained down her back, and her veins felt cold. He shaved the beard off too. And with the dirt washed from his face Amata finally figured why his eyes seemed familiar.

_He_ was John.

101010101


	2. Chapter 2

The Other Side

Chapter II

Disclaimer: Fallout 3 belongs to Bethesda.

101010101

"I'm sorry, John." Amata muttered. Her voice came out as a whisper. "But you have to leave."

It pained her to say the words, but it had to be done. Now that she was overseer she had the vault as a whole to look after. A lot of the vault citizens blamed John and his father, James, for the chaos that has transpired: the radroach infestation that resulted in dozens of people dying, some from the roaches and some from vault security, and for the civil conflicts. Having John remain in the vault would be too problematic. And she couldn't afford for people to feel angry with her so soon after taking the Overseer position. The vault couldn't afford another civil unrest.

John didn't move nor speak for a long time. He simply stood before her and watched her. Her heart raced and her stomach twisted in worry. She didn't know how he would react. He no longer resembled the John that she knew growing up. His light blue eyes showed no emotion, they were nothing but a blank stare.

Finally, he blinked. He took a deep breath, then another. His gaze drifted down until he stared at his hands. Amata noticed the wounds that covered them; his left pinkie appeared to be broken too. She opened her mouth to offer medical attention before he left, but his laugh cut her off.

His laugh didn't sound like him at all. However, she could hear the bitterness within his pitch. He laughed for a long time. After a moment, he kept his head bowed down and his shoulders began to shake. She assumed he was crying and debated on placing a hand on his shoulder in comfort. But then she heard that he was still laughing; only it had been reduced to a chuckle.

He looked up at her; his eyes drilled a hole into her. She could easily see the hurt within them. Her heart panged, but she fought the urge to embrace him.

"I save the vault," his voice was cracked and soft, "and you kick me out in return?"

There was no anger in his tone, only pain. The urge to touch him, comfort him grew greater. She explained why she couldn't let him stay, of the civil unrest that would continue to grow and manifest into something worse. His sorrow filled eyes continued to draw her in, drown her in empathy.

Then his eyes changed. The sorrow was gone and replaced with something she couldn't recognize. A queer smile grew on one corner of his mouth. "Remember that rumor?"

Amata winced. She already knew what he was referring to.

"That rumor people believed you were into girls instead of boys?"

The new overseer knew where he was going with this. But she became uncomfortable with the harsh tone of his voice. He was angry. She couldn't blame him.

"Everyone teased you for something you weren't. Remember how I was able to convince everyone that the rumor was wrong? I stuck up for you, defended you." He spoke loud enough for everyone else in the infirmary to hear him.

Amata felt her heart grow heavier. "You've always been a good friend."

John unleashed his bitter laugh again. "Remember when I broke my arm when I defended you from the Tunnel Snakes?"

Her eyes were beginning to cloud. She hastily blinked the tears away.

"Or that time when I took the blame—"

"Stop," she muttered weakly. Her plea was ignored; he continued bringing every single memory of him helping her. She began to feel sick. "Stop!"

"Remember, Amata?!"

Amata heard some of the others behind her step next to her; some of them had their hands up as if waiting for a fight.

John laughed again. He rubbed his temples then his eyes. Suddenly he looked like an overworked, unappreciated broken man. The anger had depleted from his eyes and voice.

There wasn't anything she could say. She couldn't take back her earlier words. The vault was more important than her and John.

The people that surrounded her, ready to defend her against John swelled her with pride. But she also couldn't help but feel saddened that they no longer saw him as one of them. Then again, she was kicking him out. He no longer was one of them. Not since he left.

The only thing she could give him as payment was a stupid vault suit. She really should be giving him clean water or food or medicine as payment. But she didn't want to risk giving him anything the rest of the vault would've found as too valuable.

John didn't lift his hands to accept her gift, and she felt silly holding it out to him so she pushed it onto his chest. She gripped the pants of her jumpsuit to keep her hands distracted; she wanted to give him a final goodbye hug. But she couldn't in front of the others.

Anger erupted within him again. Amata jumped when John suddenly threw the jumpsuit, the sleeve of the fabric brushed against her cheek. He sent a nearby medical table littered with empty food cans toppling over. Someone next to Amata stepped forward but she placed an arm in front of them to keep them from moving closer. She didn't want them to anger John even more.

With nothing else to throw or knock down, John still appeared angry. He kept moving his hands, and then he resorted to nearly tearing off the long coat he wore. Amata readied herself to avoid the new clothing from hitting her, but John never tossed it. He simply stuffed it into his bag. Without saying a goodbye, he simply turned to leave.

What he wore nearly forced the sob out of Amata's throat, but she still forced it to stay at bay. Plastered on John's back was the large yellow numbers one-oh-one. He wore the vault suit still, but pieces of armor were plastered on it.

His departure resulted in more thrown and broken things in his path as well as two people (Butch and Stan) that nearly had their teeth punched out. Butch claimed he simply gave John his condolences. Stan, however, was a little harsh when he said, "good riddance."

Just like that her best friend was gone. Again.

The remaining day was exhausting. Her father stayed true to his word and stepped down as overseer. Most of the vault's citizens accepted the change, but very few were disgruntled, which worried Amata.

She would worry about giving any type of speech later. Her day was spent getting Mr. Brotch and some others out of jail and getting everyone else that stayed with her in the infirmary back to their rooms. That night she couldn't sleep.

The next morning her father gave her a walkthrough of his office. She updated the passcode to enter the room, the computers, even the passcode to enter the vault. No matter how busy she kept herself she couldn't shake off the guilt that continued to stab at her heart.

To see John so hurt and angry made her feel terrible. Despite how most of the vault felt, she knew he was innocent in everything. The fact that he returned to help her proved he still thought of the vault as his home. Hell, he turned his suit into armor. Kicking him out was one of the most difficult things she's ever had to do. She didn't lie when she told him he was a good friend. _Is _a good friend.

Sighing, Amata rubbed her eyes and leaned back in her chair. As…creepy as the security cameras are (there was a camera _everywhere_), the new overseer found herself going through all of the camera feed to see what everyone was doing. She breathed a little easier when she saw that things had returned to normal. There was still some tension between the older and younger citizens, but they were all civilized.

She didn't plan to open the vault to the wasteland any time soon. Her top priority would be to gain everyone's trust and loyalty. Until then she—one of the monitors caught her attention. It was the sole camera on top of the vault door.

John was in front of the vault door. He sat on the ground, his back leaned against the door, and his head bowed. The thought of him in that position for two days broke her heart even more. Her hand hovered over the button that would allow her to speak to him, but what could she say?

For a moment, fear squeezed at her. Was he even alive? She pressed the button, but couldn't bring herself to speak. She simply stared at the screen. Then she saw it. His chest was moving. She sighed in relief, but still debated on whether she should say something to him.

An hour had passed and he hadn't budged. He looked so tired, defeated, and broken.

_This isn't right_, Amata thought. She hadn't realized tears rolled down her cheeks until she felt something wet land on the back of her hand.

Another hour passed, Amata did nothing but watch John. So many times she tried to press the intercom and talk to him, but she couldn't bring herself to do so. Deep down she felt if she tried to comfort him he'd only lash out. Not that he could do anything, she had already changed the passcode to enter the vault.

She jumped when her father walked into her open office. She hastily pressed another button to change the camera feed on all of the monitors. After they were done talking and he left the room, she quickly jammed on the camera controls until one of the monitors displayed outside of the vault again. Her heart sank.

John was no longer there.

10101

The memory of their last confrontation left Amata in awe to finally see John before her. She was filled with joy to have been with him this entire time, but that feeling was quickly being washed away with guilt.

"John?" She took a step forward, her arms lifting to embrace him.

He quickly took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest. Guilt turned into pain, but Amata couldn't blame him. She hadn't expected him to be happy to see her again. She did, however, hope he would forgive her and help the vault again.

"John, I'm so—"

"No, you're not." He moved the grab his bag and began ascending the booby trapped stairs.

The plan for a bath was the last thing on her mind; Amata forced her pained feet and legs to keep pace with John. "I'm serious! I'm really sorry, John!"

Ignoring her, he squatted in front of the dying fire. A small pile of dead, dry wood nearby helped revive the fire. John pulled three food cans from his bag (what didn't he have in there, Amata thought) and emptied them into a cooking pot before placing it on a large, flat rock that was in the center of the fire.

Unsure of what to say, Amata stepped behind him, her arms crossed over her midsection. The familiar scent of preserved food made her stomach grumble loudly. John motioned for her to sit before he poured the heated food into one of the cans and handed it to her.

Pork N Beans. There was a time when she grew tired of eating this stuff so much. Now, she was happy to be eating something her stomach was used to.

John gave her another serving when she finished. "Eat up. You'll need to be at full strength. We leave tomorrow."

Amata paused in mid chew and frowned. Was he going to take her back to the vault? "Where are we headed to?"

"Some place safe." He said nothing more and continued eating his own meal.

"John," she whispered. Her can of food sat on the ground next to her, unwanted. "Could you…let me explain?"

He didn't respond. He tilted his head slightly and resulted in a shadow masking his eyes. He poured the remaining beans from the pot into his mouth, stood, and headed back downstairs.

Standing was a challenge with her legs still hurting and sore beyond belief. She still forced herself to follow him. Fine, if he didn't want to answer her then he could at least listen.

"I was going to let you come back home. I just needed time to let things return to normal."

John busied himself by cleaning the pot under the weak trickle of water from the pipe. He tried to distract himself by thinking of other things; he didn't want to hear what his former best friend had to say. If he did he didn't know if he could control his urge to shoot something.

"Once things were settled I could have convinced everyone that you weren't to blame for anything. I had several people willing to talk on your behalf, of how you helped them during the radroach attack. And of course, the others you helped when you came back."

He couldn't block out her voice. Agitated, he scrubbed the pot with unnecessary force.

Amata sighed quietly. "I understand you probably hate me right now. Do you know how hard it was for me to watch you through the monitor?"

John stopped scrubbing and his shoulders tensed.

"I felt so helpless just watching you hurting so much. To know that _I_ caused you to feel that way and there was nothing I could do."

The pot John was cleaning had fallen and hit the ground creating a loud bang that made Amata jump. Before she could ask if he was alright he had turned around and she could immediately see the anger in his pale eyes.

"It was hard for _you_?" He wasn't yelling, but he was awfully close to it. He gave a short and harsh chuckle. "It was hard…for _you_?"

Amata cursed mentally. Perhaps her choice of words weren't the best.

"You always have to make everything about you, Amata!"

The overseer involuntarily gripped the leggings of her jumpsuit. This was her first time seeing John get this upset.

"Do you know how hard it was for _me_?" He stepped closer to her. She winced and looked away, anticipating he would hit her. "Did you know when I came to help I was still grieving for my father's death?"

That news startled her. She never could have fathomed that James was dead. She assumed that because he was born and had lived most of his life in the wasteland that he would survive. He and John, both, would survive. "You…never told me."

"You never asked! The moment I walked into the vault I was nothing more but a robot. Orders issued at me and results expected immediately."

Amata couldn't stop the tears that were freely tickling her cheeks. "H-how was he?"

"He sacrificed himself. So I would escape alive." There wasn't a single speckle of sorrow in his eyes, only hatred and anger. And regret.

Thinking of James being murdered brought the horrible memories and images of Jonah when he was murdered, beaten to death. Heavy boots stomping down on his face, body, neck.

She placed a hand over her mouth and willed herself not to throw up. She was stronger than this. Her father had always confided in her that he did not raise a weak child.

John spoke again, his voice was a little softer, some sorrow was leaking out, but he was quick to mask it with more anger. "How do you think I felt? I had to witness my father _die_ in front of me. I had to put on a strong face and help useless people escape and get to safety. Every step of the way I never had a quiet moment to mourn. I was always given other people's problems to solve."

He paused to splash water on his face. For a long moment he was silent. When Amata was about to speak he continued. "I had to get away from everything. Take some time to accept the reality of everything. But that's when I got your message."

More tears flowed out of Amata's brown eyes. She wanted to apologize to John until her voice gave out, she would do anything to make it up to him. But she remained quiet and continued to listen. Though she didn't think she could take any more guilt.

"Do you know how happy I was?" A weak smile formed in the corner of his lips. His eyes drifted up to the ceiling and almost looked cloudy, as if deep in thought. Amata couldn't help but smile too. But when his smile faded so suddenly, so did hers. "I thought that if I helped the vault, save it, that I could stay. Stay and let my life go back to how it was. No worry, no hunger or thirst, no one trying to kill me. I just wanted to forget anything happened."

Amata stifled a sob that sought so desperately to escape. For a moment she could see all of the pain and loneliness in her best friend's eyes. She fought the impulse to embrace him.

"But I couldn't even be granted that, despite everything I did for everyone." He laughed softly.

He picked up the pot that he had dropped earlier and gave it another rinse. Then he turned back to Amata, his eyes were cold and distant. All trace of emotion earlier had completely evaporated. "You know what? I change my mind. Get ready, we're leaving in thirty minutes."

Frowning again, Amata grabbed his arm before he walked away. "Where are we going?"

He violently pulled his arm away and appeared as if her touch burned him. His reaction hurt her more. "As I said, some place safe."

Amata limped in front of him. "I'm not leaving until you tell me where we're going, John. You'll have to drag or carry me."

His eyes darkened as he glared at her. "Why does it matter? You don't know the wasteland."

The overseer's heart sank. So he didn't plan on taking her back to the vault and help. "John, I came out here because I—we need your help."

His laugh sent chills down her back. "Last time I helped I was kicked out of my home permanently. What's my prize for helping this time? Kill me?"

Amata winced. "You don't understand, we've—"

"No, _you_ don't understand!"

The shorter woman stepped back from his outburst. What happened to her close friend? He never reacted like this. She shook her head and glared at him in return. "If you won't take me back to the vault and help, the least you can do is give me a name to where we're going."

Frustrated, he rubbed the bridge of his nose for a moment. "Fine, we're heading to Paradise Falls."

The name didn't sound…too bad, Amata thought. "If you aren't going to help me, why take me anywhere?"

John pulled out his long rifle again and began to inspect it. "I helped the vault last time because it was a favor for the only friend I had in this damn shithole of a wasteland."

Amata was too stunned to say anything.

"I'm taking you to a safe place where you can fit in and live the rest of your life comfortably. That's more than what I can say about _my_ life."

"Why?"

He shoved a small clip into his rifle before he slung it onto his back. Then he looked at her for a long silent moment. "I'm repaying my debt. You saved my life when you helped me escape the vault. Now, I'm saving your life by helping you escape the hardship of the wasteland."

Amata was torn between feeling grateful and guilty. She was still the overseer; it was her job to protect the vault and everyone in it. She wouldn't give up yet.

"How long will it take to get there," she asked.

John shrugged. He seemed to have no shame in undressing in front of her. She averted her eyes upward, but couldn't fight the heat in her cheeks. When he finally spoke he was wearing tan colored armor and his long coat of a matching color. If they were outside he would blend in well with the dirt, especially if someone were to see him from a distance. Then again that was probably the point.

"It depends. I, myself, can get there in two or three days. With you? Maybe a week."

One week. Amata vowed she'll make the trip as long as possible. But she'll have a week to earn John's forgiveness, and ultimately get him to help.

101010101

A/N: Much thanks to those that took the time to leave feedback. And I apologize for releasing this a week later than planned. I aim to release new chapters every Friday. But the past two weeks have been…busy. Every time I sat down to begin writing something always came up and ate away my precious time.


	3. Chapter 3

The Other Side

Chapter III

Disclaimer: Fallout 3 belongs to Bethesda.

101010101

Once they began traveling, Amata regretted not trying to convince John to change his mind about giving her the full day to rest. Every step she took was painful to the point where tears constantly threatened to escape. But she wouldn't show weakness in front of John, her father raised her to never show weakness to others. Still, traveling with John was a lot better than traveling with super mutants. At least he never rushed her, he kept at her slow pace, and he allowed her to take frequent breaks.

They were on a quick break when Amata finally gathered the courage to end the silence. "Why do we follow the road, but don't actually _use_ it? We're always clinging to the hills or the highway."

Ever since their colorful discussion John avoided looking and speaking with her. Still, he glanced at her before switching his attention back to his pip-boy. "The road will lead us to where we're going. But to actually walk on the road is suicide."

"Why?"

"Because only the trade caravans are stupid enough to use the roads. So raiders and junkies keep their eyes on the roads. If they don't set up traps then they have an ambush waiting."

Amata nodded her thanks when he handed her a bottle of water. She only managed a single gulp when he reminded her they had to ration their water. They would be on the road for days before they came across a water source.

"Are all roads dangerous," she asked.

The taller man nodded. "Everything in the wasteland is dangerous."

Rather than feeling fear, Amata couldn't squash the feeling of guilt building in her chest. If only she didn't kick John out of the vault. They'd both be home, he would be helping her in figuring out which people and organizations they could trust for limited trade, and places some of the citizens could travel to. With him, he would have warned her to never allow—

"Break's over."

Sighing, Amata winced as she climbed to her feet. After hours of traveling, walking wasn't hurting as much until they came across a hill. The incline was more exhausting, and hard on her knees. When they were nearing the top they had to climb on rock in order to avoid getting too close to the road. Thankfully, with the debris from the highway there were a lot of thick wires that aided their climb. Her palms and fingers took some abuse, however.

The sun was beginning to settle once they were at the top, which Amata was grateful for. The heat from the sun was torture. Traveling at night would be much cooler.

"This way," John urged. He led Amata away from the road and toward the opposite side of the highway.

"I thought we were supposed to follow the road."

John remained silent, but he shook his head. "Keep your voice down."

Fear stabbed at her gut as he grabbed her arm and pulled her into a faster pace. The increased speed hurt at first, but the fear was quickly squashing it. If she had to keep her voice down then whatever was out there was really close to them.

Not knowing what they were avoiding made her feel helpless. Still, she kept her mouth shut and did her best to keep up with his long strides. They continued on long since the sun had completely settled and a thick darkness snuggled close to them. She didn't know how John was able to see in the dark, she felt like she had her eyes closed.

When she asked for a break he denied it. Whatever he was afraid of, or trying to avoid was really beginning to bother her.

"What is it?"

He ignored her and carried on. But her question triggered him to increase their pace, much to Amata's chagrin.

Finally, with the moon high in the sky, the hill they walked on dipped down. Just over the edge Amata quickly noticed the broken road and dozens of small buildings.

"We'll camp for the night," John announced finally. He no longer spoke in a whisper either, which made Amata feel easier. They had passed whatever he wanted to avoid.

She thought they would take shelter in the nearby buildings, but John led her back toward the highway debris and they settled in a small open area, debris and rocks covered them from the road below.

Unsure of what to do, Amata collapsed onto a small, flat rock and watched John get to work on building a fire. More black, dead trees were only a few paces away from them. He pulled off branches with ease; he didn't even need an axe. At least, that's what Amata remembered reading what tool was used to collect wood from trees. When he placed the collected branches in a pile Amata was quick to offer her lighter. Offering him _something_ helped ease the worthless feeling.

He took the lighter without saying anything, but a small smile crept on the corners of his mouth when a single flick produced a flame. The dead wood was quick to be eaten by the growing flame.

"Keep it," Amata whispered to John when he offered her the small tool back.

John played with the lighter for moment, opening and shutting it. He glanced at the bottom of the lighter and his eyes narrowed. "This is my lighter."

"_Was_ your lighter," Amata corrected.

"Yeah," a small smile grew on John's face, "you took it from me."

"I was only keeping it until my father found the real arsonist. If he found that lighter in your room he'd quickly blame you."

John stuffed the lighter into his pocket. "He always blamed me for everything."

Amata bit her lip; she didn't know what to say.

"Who was the arsonist, by the way? I wasn't around long enough to find out."

Sadness splashed on Amata's face for a moment, but was quickly gone after she blinked. "It was Freddie."

John laughed, which, strangely enough, angered Amata. "Let me guess, he wanted to impress the Tunnel Snakes?"

Amata nodded.

"You still have a thing for him?"

Her small shoulders tensed, but she didn't answer him. That was enough of an answer for John. There was a small flicker of emotion in his eyes, but it was gone as quickly as it appeared.

They sat in silence, both staring into the dancing flames. John didn't seem to be exhausted; no doubt he was used to traveling all the time. Amata would do anything for a cold shower, a hot meal, and a soft bed right now. She's never missed the vault so much.

As she sat in self-pity, John worked on their meal. More canned food. It wasn't the hot meal she was craving, but food was food. She wolfed down her portion in record time. No doubt she'd be regretting eating her meal so quickly when the hiccups kick in.

With those nearby buildings Amata wondered if any of them still had water. The thought of a bath after such a tiring travel was a luxury she couldn't stop thinking about. She glanced at John and saw he was busy cleaning up after their dinner.

"What are those buildings?"

"They're houses."

Amata tilted her head as she studied them. They didn't look anything like the houses she'd seen in text books. "They look different. Why don't we camp in the houses instead of being out here?"

John snorted. "That's because they're mostly destroyed. All of the roofs are missing, we're better here."

"Why? Are the houses dangerous? Or is something living in them?"

"You're all full of questions, aren't you?"

Amata frowned. "Weren't you curious about all this once?"  
Another bitter laugh escaped John. "Sure, but I had to learn everything the hard way. I didn't have anyone to spoon feed me the information I wanted."

It was too late in the evening for Amata to give into another argument with John. Maybe he _was_ tired if he was acting like an ass. She only wanted to know if it was safe to go in the homes so she could wash up. She rubbed her temples as she thought it over. If the houses were dangerous, or if something lurked inside them was dangerous, he would have told her to stay away, right?

She excused herself to use the bathroom, he grunted in response. Due to the bright moonlight, Amata quickly noticed a small trail that led to the cluster of houses. John was right; all of the buildings had no roofs. Some were extremely tall, others were smaller.

The first two homes she walked into were completely barren, nothing but wood, bricks, and glass littered the floor. There was no sign of a sink at least. Another set of homes were not in complete ruin, the furniture was scorched, and there was a tub. Eager, Amata turned it on, but was met with disappointment when nothing came out of the faucet.

In the next house she immediately tripped upon entering. When she investigated the source of what tripped her, her blood went cold and she had to clamp a hand on her mouth to keep herself from screaming. She tripped on a human skull. Even though the bone was clean, and old, it still sent shivers down Amata's spine and she wanted to be as far away from it.

In her state of panic, Amata didn't climb to feet from her sitting position, but instead she dragged herself backwards until her back met half of a wall. A long moment passed until the panic and fear began to dull, her breathing returned to normal, and she was finally able to tear her eyes away from the skull.

The fear was playing with her sense of movement; she could feel as if she was levitating. Then she saw a claw poke out from the ground beneath her. There was something _underneath_ her.

This time she screamed and sprinted away from where she sat. A scorpion, much bigger than a radroach, was climbing out of the rocks and dirt. It was slow to turn, but when it faced Amata it charged at her.

The woman ran as fast as she could. Part of her wanted to turn around to see if it was still chasing her, but a bigger part of her said to concentrate on running, so she did. She couldn't see the campfire from her angle, but she found the trail that took her down. Climbing up was more difficult going down due to the loose dirt and rocks.

Something crawled on her ankle which produced another scream from her. She tried to kick it away and she felt a satisfying _thump_ when her foot connected to something. But her victory was short lived as immediately afterward she felt a great pain stab into the back of her thigh. Her entire lower body became paralyzed in pain which made it difficult to stay on her feet. It was a mistake to put her body weight on her injured leg, pain shot up her spine and she collapsed.

She couldn't give up. She forced herself to stand, while avoiding putting any direct pressure on her injured leg. The moment she stood, she never felt so happy to see John a few paces in front of her.

"Move!" He motioned her to the side.

Once she was out of his path, he charged the massive scorpion and kicked it. The critter rolled down the hill and landed on its back.

Amata watched in awe as John rushed to the scorpion, it had difficulty getting back onto its legs. Then she noticed he had a weapon in his hand. It wasn't the long rifle he normally carried, it was much smaller, but it wasn't a handgun, and it had a long barrel. He quickly fired the weapon on the scorpion's belly. She grew confused when she didn't hear anything from the weapon.

When the scorpion stopped moving John ceased firing. He searched around their area where he stood, as if waiting for another scorpion to appear. Amata shivered; with the fear and adrenaline out of her system she began to feel the chill from the cool night.

With the coast clear, John charged at her, anger displayed all over his handsome features. Amata gulped, she was in for another argument.

She didn't expect him to give her his hand, she was confused by his kind gesture at first, but she took it nonetheless. He pulled her to her feet and gave her a quick look over. "You hurt?"

Her leg was still hurting, but not as badly as before, it throbbed, but she would live. And she didn't need to worry him about a little injury. She felt bad enough for ruining their quiet evening.

"I'm fine," she answered.

Relief reflected in his eyes for a moment before it mutated into anger. "What the _hell_ were you doing down here?"

"I was just curious about the houses."

He shook his head. "You're not stupid, Amata, you wouldn't come down here just to have a looksee. _Why_ did you come down here?"

Not wanting to anger him further, Amata came clean about simply wanting to see if the homes had running water. Then she quickly explained how the scorpion came out of the ground and pursued her.

A string of curses left him. "We have to move camp then." He quickly ascended the trail.

"What? Why?" Amata struggled to follow closely without showing how much her leg pained her.

"Radscorpions are nocturnal. They hunt in the evening. So if a nest made those buildings home then there are more. We don't want to be here when they return."

So they were called radscorpions? And they traveled in groups? Amata shivered, and it wasn't from the cold.

Thankfully, they didn't have much to pack up. John kept everything in his duffle bag. But he wanted to change into his black clothes since they would be traveling in the evening. As Amata waited for him to change, she fought off a dizzy spell. She was absolutely exhausted, and they would have to travel some more. Her leg pulsed in pain again; she had to bite her lip to keep from crying aloud.

"Let's go."

Amata followed him in silence. She wanted to apologize to him for getting into trouble, again. And for making him save her, again.

"Just like old times, huh, Amata?"

She nodded, but quickly felt stupid for giving him a gesture he can't see. "Yes," she offered weakly. The lack of sleep and the punishment her body endured for the past two days were really making her feel light headed. Even in the cool air, the excursion of traveling was enough to make her sweat.

They moved on, but John stopped frequently to peer through the scope of his long rifle. She wanted to ask what else they had to be careful for, but she was too tired to say anything. The more they walked the more her leg hurt. She debated internally for a long time over whether or not she should tell him about her injury. Maybe once they made camp she would say something.

The overseer didn't know how long they traveled; her mind was clouded with just trying to ignore the pain. She began to feel worried when the pain spread throughout her body, especially in her stomach.

John always remained at point a few paces away from her, and thankfully he never looked back at her. Instead he relied on his hearing, every time he paused and looked ahead through his scope he didn't move on until he heard her footsteps.

"We're almost a safe distance away," he whispered. "Just a head there's—"

Amata couldn't hear the ending of his sentence. The pain was too much, she crumbled to her knees. The jolt aggravated her stomach even more and she couldn't hold back the nausea that had built up. Hunching over, she threw up her dinner.

When John touched her arm she then realized how hot her body had become, she just thought it was from the hike.

"What's wrong?"

Amata spit, wiped her mouth, and used John as leverage to climb to her feet. She took a step forward on her bad leg and collapsed, this time she couldn't mask the yelp that escaped her throat.

"_Damn it_, Amata!"

She winced at the tone of his voice; she knew she messed up again. Her vision was beginning to swim, and her head became heavy. Sleep welcomed her, until she felt a sharp sting on her cheek.

"I need you to stay awake."

She realized he had been carrying her, she hoped she wouldn't throw up again.

Too late, just thinking about it made her sick. "John, I'm gonna be sick again."

He placed her down just in time. This time, her vomit was white with splotches of pink.

_I'm dying_, she thought. She was puking blood.

Tears came, she was beginning to panic. "I'm sorry," was all that she managed to get out before she threw up again, her throat burned.

"Drink this."

Something was pressed to her lips, she resisted. The last thing she wanted was something in her stomach for her to throw up again.

"Amata, I need you to drink this."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled. She always caused problems for John.

He pressed the flask to her mouth again. She took a deep breath before she drank the bitter tasting liquid. Panic sank into her again, she was worried it would come back up, but it didn't. Her stomach wasn't hurting as much anymore, but her leg was. She couldn't even move it.

John scooped her up again, she wished she could see where they were headed, but everything was so dark and she was so sleepy. Guilt ate at her insides; all she could do was apologize over and over until she drifted asleep.

She dreamt of water again.

She was fighting another one of those radscorpions, and she sucked at it. She didn't have the same fighting technique John had. The radscorpion stung her arm with its tail, but instead of blood pouring out of her wound it was clear water. When she was stung a second time, on her leg, it also poured water.

Rather than continue to get stung by the insect, Amata ran away. She couldn't get far though, her body hurt too much and when she became sick she vomited water. A noise made her lift her head. It was an entire nest of radscorpions that surrounded her. As one, they all charged.

Amata sat up with a startled cry; her breath came out in ragged gasps.

Her fingers felt for the places the radcorpion stung her, but she found herself free of any wounds. Her head was still foggy, and her vision was taking its time to clear as well.

"Feeling better?"

Gasping, Amata nearly jumped out of her own skin. She immediately recognized John's voice and breathed easier. She rubbed her eyes until she was finally able to see that she was sitting on the floor, the sun already high in the sky.

John sat on a boulder in front of her, his dark clothes were replaced with his tanned color armor and jacket, and he had his long rifle sitting on his lap. Amata noticed the dark circles under his eyes and instantly felt guilty again. He probably stayed up the entire night.

A bottled water sat next to her. John didn't object when she drained the water from it in about three gulps.

"Why didn't you tell me the radscorpion stung you?"

Amata sat in silence for a while. If her leg still wasn't hurting she would have probably squirmed. "I…I didn't want to worry you."

John snorted. "Well you worried me when you just started puking your guts out."

Amata looked at him. His features were soft for such a quick moment, but then it was quickly gone. He was worried about her? She still felt guilty, and she hated that it was the only thing she was feeling lately, but she also felt a little happy for his concern.

"You're lucky you weren't stung by a giant radscorpion. Their venom is much more potent, and would have killed you."

There were bigger radscorpions? Amata's jaw dropped. She didn't want to think how big a giant one looked. Or how it felt to be stung by one.

"You're even luckier I had an antivenom on me."

"John, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be sorry," he said sternly. "From now on, if you get a paper cut you tell me. Everything in the wasteland is deadly."

Amata nodded.

"Good. Now, get some rest. Even with the antivenom you'll still feel the effects for a while. We'll have no choice but to rest for the day. Tomorrow will be difficult."

Amata felt her heart sink into her gut. "Why?"

John rubbed his eyes. "We have to go through raider territory."

He further explained what a raider was. Violent junkies that will rape, torture, or kill anyone on sight, sometimes in that order. Amata needed no further explanation, she already ran into raiders. She wasn't looking forward to tomorrow.

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A/N: Big, big, big thanks to those that left some feedback. But I'm afraid answers to some people's questions from the last chapter will have to wait a little longer. :) As for the radscorpion, it's obvious they're venomous, but when the LW is stung by one there are no effects whatsoever (except what we see if stung by an Albino, or by the bark scorpions in New Vegas). So I did my best to make the poison effects a bit more realistic.


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